


Familicide

by Alpacrate



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcoholism, Bad Parenting, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Drabble, Family Dynamics, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpacrate/pseuds/Alpacrate
Summary: She had been a fool to let Willow stop her, of course her mother would take the first chance to pick her apart. But she kept her face blank, she would not let the woman get to her. She had already shown weakness in front of father. She couldn't.---Post V7-Episode 8
Relationships: Willow Schnee & Winter Schnee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Familicide

"Our chefs’ cooking not to your liking anymore? I can't imagine it's much worse than military rations." 

Winter's head jerked up, body reflexively tensing at the unexpected presence, and Willow chuckled. Winter felt her brows knit despite herself and settled back against the wall, displeased.

"Hello, mother."

"Mother?" Willow laughed again, "I at least got a 'mom' from your sister."

"You're drunk."

"You were always the perceptive one, weren't you." Willow lifted the glass in her hand, eyes focused on the clear liquid within it. She at least didn't seem to have a bottle with her, but Winter doubted it was far. Willow's face stayed placid as she took a sip.

Winter sighed and shook her head, pushing off the wall and starting off down the large hall. "I'm not in the mood for this. Good day, mother."

Willow's expression tensed, finally, and her hand shot out to grab Winter’s arm. Her mother's grasp was weak, but she still couldn't move as the other woman spoke.

"Wait. Please." Her tone had lost the vaguely flippant, self-deprecating air it usually held when she'd been drinking. Winter flinched. "Winter, it's been a year and a half."

"A year and eight months, actually. At Ironwood's banquet."

Willow's hand lingered on her arm. Winter did not attempt to brush it off.

"Yes, a year and eight months, please, I… I just wanted to hear your voice."

Winter finally turned, frowning, to fully face her mother. "You really are drunk. You said you spoke to Weiss? If you think just because she won't talk back to you you can say anything you want to her-"

Willow interrupted her with a snort, pained and undignified. "Protective! Always protective of your sister. Yet you're so cold to her."

"I do not want to hear this from-" 

"And Whitley? Where is that protection for him?"

Winter forced her jaw to unclench and her arms to stay straight at her sides, rather than curling around her as they so desperately wanted to. She had been a fool to let Willow stop her, of course her mother would take the first chance to pick her apart. But she kept her face blank, she would not let the woman get to her. She had already shown weakness in front of father. She couldn't. 

"Whitley has a long journey ahead of him. As I had. And Weiss." And Willow, despite how stubbornly she refused to acknowledge it. 

"And you leave him to take it alone? You two… Weiss has looked up to you so long, I suppose it's not surprising you think alike." She took another sip from her glass. Winter looked away.

"He'll fall, you know," Willow continued. "It's all he can do to survive, now. He's all your father has left, I'm surprised he hasn't hung a bell around his neck." Another sip. Ah, she'd finished the drink. Winter watched as her mother swirled the last few drops in the cup, pale eyes fixed on them.

"And that's Weiss and I's job, I suppose. He is your  _ son _ , mother. Why don't for once in your life you take some responsibility?" Her voice drew high and fragile as she spoke, and she quickly drew back into herself. Weakness. Again. Winter hated this damn house.

"Oh love," Willow smiled at her with eyes that laid bare all the hurt and twisted hatred trapped inside Winter, before turning away, just  _ leaving it there _ . Letting it go as if- "What can the already fallen do to help? All I can offer him now is company as he descends." She turned from her daughter, apparently content with… whatever the hell that had been. "Now don't you have a general to protect? I'm sure he's missing you."

And Willow walked away. She walked away as if she hadn't thrown a noose around Winter's neck and pulled it taught. Finally, Winter let her arms rise, clutching desperately at herself and digging her nails into the firm fabric of her uniform. 

She needed to get out of this damn house.


End file.
